Brother, Please Save Me From This Pedophile
by last letter
Summary: Ludwig's sexuality is roughly that of a potato's; his only wish is to study in peace. Alfred is but a sack of raging hormones; his life's work is being cool. They are two different people with just one similarity - they are both dumb. Rome/Ger, Russia/USA


Somewhat unnecessary notes: Rome/Germany, Prussia/Germany, Russia/America, Canada/America AU. Bound to be ridiculous. Focus will swing back and forth between Germany and America. Admittedly, the focus will probably be on America most of the time because he is cool. Hopefully you will find the ability to put up with this flimsy tale burrowed deep within your kindly hearts.

* * *

_bruder, please save me from this pedophile_

* * *

The clock hung above the mantelpiece in the living room was loud and methodic, a stark contrast to the quiet of the dark house. The ticking was heard easily even from the kitchen, where he was working silently and steadily at a pad of notebook paper next to the open pages of a reference book as he had been doing for the past few hours of the night. Or was it morning already?

Ludwig Beilschmidt paused in his writing and arched his back, stretching and feeling the soreness that resulted from several straight hours of leaning over the kitchen table unmovingly. He glanced at the digital numbers on the microwave. They read 2:33 AM. Damn. He'd been up longer than he had thought, and one of his two early-morning classes that occurred every week was scheduled for tomorrow. Then again, he was used to sleep deprivation – if it wasn't schoolwork, it was one of his housemates, Feliciano Vargas, keeping him up constantly with his whimsical energy. But at the moment, Feliciano was on leave to visit his parents and brother back in Italy, and so Ludwig was currently finding himself with a rare surplus of peace.

Gilbert still wasn't home either, the easygoing fool. Ludwig allowed himself a sigh of exasperation. What kind of bar was his stupid older brother setting? He was the one who had left Germany first. Ludwig couldn't have been more than eight at the time, which meant Gilbert had to have been thirteen. Thirteen years old and already running away from home to be successful in America. "I'm leaving to go be awesome, West!" he remembered him shouting excitedly after ages of planning and saving up had been accomplished. "I'm going to get the coolest job ever and be rich and famous! You'd better study hard and learn English so you can come admire me! Also don't tell our parents until they notice I'm gone otherwise vati's gonna pole me right through the stomach and then I'll be dead and that'll suck."

Well, Ludwig had kept his half of the deal. He'd studied and studied like nothing else and was blasting apart the educational system and had finally gotten recognized for his outstanding devotion to study by one of the most prestigious, and perhaps most unusually eccentric, schools in the world, based in America, and entered the student books at the earliest age of admission – twelve years old. A lot had happened in the eight years since then, but in a very simplistic nutshell, Gilbert had ultimately come to live with him, due to his current profession at the very same school: a custodian.

What a disappointing brother. And now look at this. The darkest hours of morning and he was still out drinking and partying with his friends. How unbearably frivolous.

Ludwig looked at the digital microwave clock again and leafed through his notes. Hmmm. The assignment was due at the end of next week, and he by no means was obligated to accomplish so much in one night, but – he was almost done with this part. Maybe he'd stay up until 3 AM, just about half an hour more. He hadn't come to America merely to follow his brother, of course – this was his final year of attendance here. Since his brother was obviously failing to fulfill his pledge of becoming successful, it was up to Ludwig to take advantage of this golden opportunity to study at this school and find a promising job to send money back home. Working hard was the most important thing that could _possibly_ exist, ever, and why exactly Gilbert was such a useless layabout was really just beyond him.

The kitchen door, which led outside to the side of the house, rattled loudly as someone attempted to turn the doorknob, then, finally accepting that it was locked, banged commandingly on it. Ludwig stood and sighed again. Stupid brother, he thought. Probably too drunk to remember that he actually had the key to the _front_ door, and was supposed to be entering through there anyway. He went to let him in.

The door swung open, and in the split second before peaceful tranquility turned into impacting chaos and Ludwig was struck by a positively _explosive_ force as a huge form lunged and knocked the wind completely out of him, he had time to think just one thing:

_This is not Gilbert._

In the next split second, and the split seconds following after, he had plenty of time to think lots of things, but most of them went something like this:

_Oh shit what is happening there is a random large man hugging me what is going on it is a burglar I am being mugged damn I will never finish this assignment what a terrible day._

"_CIAO, CIAO, CIAO, YOU ADORABLE THING!_" bellowed the stranger/burglar/mugger, crushing Ludwig's ribs to dust with his immense strength. "_AHHH, DAMN IT, YOU'RE SO CUTE, YOU'RE SO CUTE, YOU'RE SO CUUUUTE!_"

Ludwig could only manage a pained and desperate gasp in response. His lungs were deflating, flattening like a hopelessly leaking balloon. A hopelessly leaking balloon that was being _crushed by extremely muscular arms belonging to someone calling him cute_.

"_OHHH MY LITTLE BOY,_" he was still booming, strangling Ludwig mercilessly, "_I MISSED YOU SOOO SO MUCH, I HARDLY HAVE TIME TO VISIT ANYMORE, AND YOU KNOW WHAT I'M BACK IN TOWN AND I WAS JUST DROPPING OFF SOME OF THE LADIES YOU KNOW HOW THEY GET HA HA AND THEN I THOUGHT, NO! I CAN'T GO WITHOUT SEEING YOU FOR A MOMENT LONGER! SO I TURNED RIGHT OUT OF TOWN AND DROVE INTO CAMPUS AND NOW I'M HERE AND YOU'RE JUST SO CUTE I CAN'T STAND IT OH NOOO!_"

This man was too buff. Ludwig couldn't take it anymore. The edges of his vision were fading and being replaced with a soft white light. It looked so comforting. Was this the end? No, he didn't want to die, not like this! But, that light…

"_YOU'RE JUST TOO ADORABLE,_" the man's voice cried, but it was getting harder to hear as the suffocation became more and more absolute. "_TI AMO, TI AMO, TI AMO, YOU ADORABLE, ADORABLE GRANDSON OF MINE!_"

His consciousness came flooding back.

"W-wait," Ludwig managed to choke out. "I'm not your grandson." But either those enormous muscles that seemed to have replaced all other forms of matter in his immediate area as they enveloped him were so thick that they were absorbing his sound waves, or the man simply didn't _care_, because the embrace was not relaxed in the slightest.

"_MY ADORABLE DARLING BOY_," he was still bellowing, and began to nuzzle Ludwig's cheek in an extremely discomforting manner, his stubble scratching painfully against increasingly flushed skin.

This was getting ridiculous, and the stupid stranger wasn't paying any attention to what he was doing at all. With every ounce of strength he had left, Ludwig drew in as much air as he possibly could into his abused lungs.

"_HEY, GOD DAMN IT_," he roared, even louder than the hugging stranger, "_GET THE HELL OFF OF ME_, _NOW._"

The stranger froze in mid-nuzzle, dropping his arms and stepping back to get a clear look at Ludwig's face. Ludwig scanned him over in return.

He was a very tan and very muscular adult man, with irritatingly messy curls and an even more irritatingly cheerful and foolish looking face. He appeared nothing short of a playboy, draped in sickeningly fashionable clothes with a severe lacking of buttons doing what buttons were meant to do, as his well-built chest was very much out in the open for all the world to investigate as they pleased. At the moment, his face was arranged in a look of abject incredulity.

"You're not Feliciano," he said, dumbfounded.

"_Really_," Ludwig replied scathingly.

The stranger seemed to be at a loss for words. "You…" he floundered, "You _tricked_ me!"

"…Excuse me?"

"Well, honey, I know I am such a huge irresistible hunk and you are just dying for my love but come on, pretending to be someone else is no way to go about it! Be yourself, babe, that's the way to worm yourself into this beautiful manly heart!"

He promptly began to ignore Ludwig and skipped uninvited into the kitchen. "Feli, baby! _Mi manchi!_ Where are you? A cruel blond boy is trying to steal all of my torrid affections that I've been saving up for you!" He waited while Ludwig stared at him blankly, then turned to him when there was no response. "Where _is_ Feliciano?" he asked meekly.

It had been slowly becoming clearer in his mind, but now Ludwig finally fully realized: _This man is an idiot._

Even worse: _He acts like Brother, too._

"In. Italy."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Who are you?"

Ludwig's head began to throb. "His. Housemate."

"Oh."

More silence.

"Wait uh, so who are you agai—"

"May I ask who _you_ are and what exactly you are doing trying to come in through the side door at 3 AM and why you think it is perfectly appropriate to barge in, practically kill me while mistaking me for someone else, and then come tramping into my house without permission or even so much as an apology?"

For some infuriating reason, the stranger did not seem appalled at his own actions at all, but rather, shocked that Ludwig was asking him his identity.

Drawing himself up grandly, he proclaimed, "_I _am none other than the culmination of every living, breathing entity's romantic dreams, baby! The desire of every woman! The crush of every child! The envy of every man!" To emphasize his point, he flexed his biceps impressively. They bulged out from his swanky-looking jacket, looking quite picturesque. "A pure, sexy, perfect balance of rays of heavenly light and Italian spirit, dripping with sheer masculinity! That's who _I _am. Don't forget it, honey!" Without further detail, he danced away into the rest of the house.

Oh, for the love of – was this man being stupid on purpose or was he actually serious? Ludwig ran after him and cut off his path. The stranger frowned at him. "What are you doing, babe? You're blocking the way."

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Well, to see my sweetie Feli's room, of course! Even if he's not here, I have to make sure he's dressing as adorably as he did when he was just a teeny little tyke, and make sure that all of his underwear is organized by color and separated clearly into boxers and briefs, and make sure that his room is still clean, and make sure that his supply of fancy condoms that I send every year for Christmas isn't running low, and make sure that he has everything he need to be getting in on the action whenever he wants to be, and—"

His headache was getting worse. This was way too much information. And besides, of course Feliciano's underwear was separated properly. Ludwig wouldn't have stood for otherwise. "Okay, enough. I don't even know your name, so I think you'll forgive me if I stop you from trespassing around my house and kick you out, say…immediately."

"Oh! Is that the problem? Forgive me, babe, you can just call me Rome. Named after the sexiest city on Earth, that's me! What great parents, right? Italian pride, baby! Italian love and pride!" He pumped his fist in the air for no reason, then succeeded in pushing past Ludwig and sailed upstairs. "Man, I forget how _big_ these campus housing-sector houses are!" he called down from above. "You sure are a lucky little boner, aren't you, Ludwig! All thanks to the goodness of Feli's cute little heart, huh? He's the one who invited you to live with him, right? Isn't he cute? He's so cute! Ahh, I can't stop thinking about it!"

This man was unbelievable. Maybe Ludwig was dreaming this whole disaster. It was very possible that right now he was still asleep over his notes back downstairs in the kitchen, he mused, half-convinced it was true, as he followed Rome upstairs. "…I never told you my name." He had also never said it was okay for him to continue his further invasion into the house, but it seemed like that was a hopeless case to press anymore now. Ludwig wished that, at least, the man would cease with the pet names. They were completely uncalled for, and he suffered more than enough pet names in a day than was healthy already, thanks to hanging around Gilbert.

"Oh, I remembered just now, baby!" said Rome jauntily, waving what looked like a white flag at him from inside Feliciano's room, which had apparently been successfully located. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't a white flag – it was a pair of boxers. He really_ was_ rummaging through the boy's underwear drawer, Ludwig noted, rather put out. Rome was going to mess up all of his hours of careful organization. "Feli's always talking about you on the phone or on IM or whatever. _Whoa!_ Don't tell me – does he _sleep_ with you?"

Ludwig frowned. Well, Feliciano _did_ occasionally beg to sleep in the same bed together, but that wasn't really a big deal. "What's your relation to Feliciano anyway?" he asked instead of replying (the man _had_ said not to tell him, after all), and then stepped back in alarm as Rome's face was suddenly looming just inches away from his.

"He sleeps with you, does he?" he said scrutinizingly. "Hmm, well, I guess you're not too bad…let me see…" Rome backed away and began to look him up and down. Ludwig coughed.

"What's your relation to Feliciano?" he repeated.

"Oh, I'm his grandpa," Rome said dismissively, and then, "_Whoa!_ Feliciano's pictures!" He dashed over to the paintings that both lay in stacks around the floor and hung off the walls. "Ahh, he's so cute when he draws, I just wanna kiss him to death!"

Feliciano's defining attribute that had earned him acceptance into their unorthodox school (well, Ludwig assumed it was the reason, anyway) was his advanced artistic proficiency. Ludwig was also involved in the art sector, part of the reason why he was living in this part of the campus housing-sector, but he wasn't as in-depth as Feliciano was. His primary studies were in the history. And besides, his paintings were just never quite…

Wait a minute.

"You're his _grandfather?_" he asked incredulously. "That's impossible."

"How do you mean?" asked Rome unconcernedly, and nodded appreciatively as he ogled a very detailed and rather promiscuous painting of a lady in what could barely be called a dress. Ludwig stared at the man's face. He clearly couldn't have been over thirty-five. Feliciano was eighteen. If Rome had claimed to be his _father_, that meant he had had to be around age seventeen when Feliciano was born. But to be his _grandfather_…

"That's impossible," he said again.

"Hey, it's not up for debate, baby!" He directed a whistle at another painting. "_Whoa, _man, what a total _babe_." Ludwig glanced at the woman in question. He remembered Feliciano painting that one – it had been based off a photograph of his classmate's mother. A Greek boy, if he recalled correctly, but the Greek had been Feliciano's friend, anyway. Rome whistled again. "Oh, _man_. Check _her_ out. Look at that attitude on her face! Feli's so good at this, she is _smokin'._"

Ludwig looked and felt his stomach drop with complete bemusement. That wasn't… he remembered when Feliciano had painted that one too. From a photograph of _his vater._ "Hey," Rome exclaimed, "She _totally_ looks just like you, honey! Do you know her? Introduce me?" He flexed his muscles unnecessarily again.

"That would be my father," Ludwig informed him, feeling nauseated and wondering when this nightmare would end. Rome's eyebrows shot up in horror.

"Whoa _whoa_! So he's _older_ now? Man, I'll pass! But hey, I totally should have seen that, he looks just like you, babe, only with longer hair!"

"Um." _That_ was his problem? The fact that Rome had just checked out a painting of Ludwig's _father_ didn't bother him at all?

Actually, it didn't bother Ludwig too much anymore either, on account of Rome now taking weirdly predatory steps towards him and everything.

"Um," said Ludwig.

Rome's eyes traveled up his body and met his gaze. "You know, you really _are_ a gem, now that I get a good look at you…"

"Um," said Ludwig.

"I can't believe I didn't notice before, but maybe if you wore something sexier and tighter, baby…mmhm, yeah, don't you think so?" He winked.

"Um," said Ludwig.

Rome flashed him a winning smile. "Hey, Ludwig, darling. You're pretty cute. You got a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything?"

"Um," said Ludwig.

"No?" asked Rome, and he raised his head a smidgen to the left and moved his shoulders just so and gave Ludwig the most awkwardly sultry look he had ever seen in his life. "You wanna go out with me then, babe?"

"Um, what are you—?"

"_Whoa_," the man shouted without warning, "I forgot I'm hungry, you got anything to eat?" And he dashed back downstairs.

Ludwig pinched himself. Was this really, honest-to-god, actually happening right now? He had no idea what was going on. It was most definitely probably just a really weird dream. The weirdest dream he had ever experienced, _ever_. At least, he hoped so…

My notes, he thought suddenly, and groaned. How much time had he wasted already? He should have been finishing those up this whole while, and now look at the mess that was taking place. A potential nutcase was gallivanting around his house for no reason and invading his housemate's undergarment drawers and Ludwig could do nothing but follow him around and try vainly to stop him from setting the house on fire by accident or something.

Reentering the kitchen, he found Rome standing in front of the counter, gnawing on a – was that a potato?

"I gotta say, babe," said Rome, upon noticing his entrance, "I'm not too impressed with your cooking skills. Has living with my darling grandson taught you nothing about food?"

"That's a potato," Ludwig informed him.

"Man, potato, tomato, whatever! What I'm saying is—_whoa_, it's this late already?! I thought it was only midnight or something!" Ludwig glanced at the microwave and groaned again. It was 3:12.

"Baby, I gotta go, like, pronto! There's about four girls and a set of twins I got keeping the bed warm back home, you know what I _mean?_ _Ho ho._ Anyway, I'm in trouble!" He tossed the potato into the sink drain with reckless abandon before winking at Ludwig again.

"So hey, baby, go out with me? Yeah? No?"

Ludwig blinked. "No."

Rome's eyes widened. He looked completely stunned. "_NO?_"

"Yes."

"Oh," said Rome, laughing in a relieved manner, as if he had almost been led to believe something catastrophically impossible. "So you will! Good stuff, darling. Don't scare me like that."

"What? I said no."

"Wh-wh-wh—" Rome spluttered. "_No?_ You did not say no. When did you say no? You definitely said 'Yes', baby, I heard it just now! Right from your mouth!" He flexed his muscles at him again and winked. Why on earth did he keep doing that? "Your sexy little mouth, baby, yours and mine…"

How much longer was this going to go on? "…Look, I actually have work to do, so it'd be much appreciated if you left."

A look of dawning comprehension took over Rome's face. "_Ohhh_," he said, and looped his arm around Ludwig's neck to bring their faces closer. Ludwig frowned at him and tried to escape to no avail. "I _see_. You're one of _those_, aren't you, babe? The studious, awkward type! That's pretty cute! So I guess you don't have a lot of experience, _huh?_"

"What are you talking about?"

"Shh-ch-ch, darling! I understand _everything_. You don't have to worry about a thing, baby! I'll teach you everything there is! My mastery is unparalleled, you know!"

"Um, teach what—?"

"_Skills_, man, _skills_. I'll introduce to you a whole new world of pleasure, baby. You just sit back and let it wash over you, like delicious, sexy _music_." Rome flexed again. He apparently really liked to do that for some reason. "Although, I gotta go for now, so, here's just a little demonstration…watch this, ready?" He snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened. Ludwig, by this time, was confused to the point of no return, and his headache was beginning to swell. "…Okay. Leave."

Rome sighed and shrugged in a grand and superior kind of way. "Alright, alright! I see it's gonna take a while, huh, babe? I swear to you, you'll appreciate my skills yet!" He began to exit.

_He is a moron_, Ludwig thought. "You didn't even do anything."

Rome paused. "Didn't I?" he asked, and waggled his eyebrows annoyingly at him. "_Buona notte_ – that means good night, baby." He left, and as the kitchen door clacked shut, Ludwig felt a shift of fabric and a sudden chill on his chest and back. He looked down in time to see his shirt fall lightly onto the linoleum at his feet, despite it having been perfectly buttoned just minutes ago as far as he was aware.

Okay, the man did have some skill, he thought grudgingly, now topless. What the point of it all was, however, he just couldn't grasp. And, oh, damn it, looked like he was going to have to give up on working on his assignment for the night now… curses, what a waste of time.

At that moment there was a jangling from the front of the house and then the sound of loud, booted, unsteady steps growing louder in his direction. "We-e-e_-eeest_," sang Gilbert as he burst in, swinging a cornerstore bag filled with beer bottles, "I'm hooome, hot thang! Didja miss—" The bag fell to the floor with a loud cracking _clink_ and a puddle of beer began to grow around it.

Gilbert stood, paralyzed, with his mouth gaping wide open, and stared in absolute shock at Ludwig, who gazed steadily back at him, very much naked around the upper areas of his body.

"Oh. My. _God, _Lud," he breathed, eyes wide with disbelief. "Did you just have _SEX?_"

"Stop being stupid, brother," sighed Ludwig, and bent to pick up his shirt from the floor.


End file.
